Sin Sweet Beyond Forgiving
by Samuraiko
Summary: Abel and Johanna have shared a great deal... laughter, risks, fears, memories, friendship, tears, and blood. Tonight, however, ALL of their barriers are coming down, and neither of them will ever be the same. The first M-rated AbelxJohanna tale.


_Note: This story comes about thanks to a prompt ("I'm a sinner"/"Aren't we all?") by one of the members of the_ A Slight Glitch _LJ community. I'd also toyed for some idea with the idea of an Abelanna erotica, and after a few false starts, I figured if I was going to do it, I should just go whole hog._

_"Sin Sweet Beyond Forgiving" comes with a number of caveats:_

_1) this is definitely an erotica about Abel and Johanna  
2) it is set between the end of episode 15 ("The Ibelis Part III: Mark of the Sinner") and the start of episode 16 ("The Night Lords Part I: Return of the Envoy)  
3) this is _not_ part of the canon of UNEXPECTED RESULTS, because of the fact it's an erotica, and because... well... what happens at the end of the Ibelis story arc has its own ramifications on my series  
4) this makes the assumption that by now, it has been determined once and for all by Father William that there is no way to return Johanna to her own time - in other words, she's staying in the future whether she wants to or not._

_You have been warned._

* * *

**SIN SWEET BEYOND FORGIVING**

_I am a sinner_.

Four words that ran over and over through Abel's mind as he stood in the shadows of the ruins of S. Nicola di Bari, the stone faintly gleaming in the moonlight and the wind whispering through the trees and the grass. The priest wrapped his arms around himself and threw his head back to look up at the sky, watching the stars slowly wheel overhead, and shivering slightly despite the warmth of his cloak.

The wind tossed his white hair into his face, and he idly pushed it back, running his fingers through the unkempt mane.

"Abel?"

He turned around, his eyes coming to rest on the tall, slim figure standing near one of the windows of the ruin. Abel grinned slightly as the figure awkwardly climbed through the window, nearly falling over, before coming to stand beside him.

"Graceful as always, Johanna."

She shrugged, blushing slightly.

"What brings you out here?" he asked her in curiosity.

"You," she admitted, moving a bit closer to him and brushing a few stray tresses back from his face. "You seemed... I don't know... a bit pensive these last few days since you got back from Cartago."

Abel nodded. He'd never been good at hiding his feelings, especially from Johanna, no matter how hard he tried.

"Anything I can do to help?"

"I wish you could," he replied, his voice low and slightly bitter. "But you can't change a person's nature."

"I don't understand."

He suddenly turned away from her, his hands clenched into fists. "You... you weren't there... in Cartago. You didn't see... what I became."

Abel couldn't face her, couldn't make himself turn around, but then he felt her hand on his arm.

"You transformed into a Crusnik, didn't you?"

He nodded, but still kept his face turned away.

"So what? I've seen you in that form, remember?" she said softly. "When you rescued me in Antwerp from that vampire. It makes no difference, Abel... not to me."

"That was different," he said in anger. "That night... I had only transformed to forty percent of my Crusnik form. In Cartago... it was twice that much. I... disgust everyone when I'm like that. Esther... Caterina... even myself."

"But not me."

Abel paused, then finally turned around to meet Johanna's eyes.

"You can't mean that," he hissed, yanking his arm away from her touch as he turned away again. "You don't know what sort of _monster_ I become."

"Then show me," she shot back, reaching out to take his arm and pull him back around. "Prove me wrong."

"No-"

"Coward." The word froze Abel in place. "I think you just want an excuse to wallow in whatever hell you've decided to put yourself in. I don't think that what you become is all that bad, but you have to believe it is because other people are too stupid or too afraid to accept the darkness."

"If you knew the truth, you'd be afraid, too!"

"Then show me!" she cried. "The hell with the consequences, Abel, I wasn't afraid of you in Antwerp, and I'm not afraid of you now!"

"You want to see?!" he roared, seizing her by the shoulders and shaking her so hard that she nearly fell. "You want to _see_ the mark of my sins?! _FINE!_"

Shoving her backward up against the ruined wall so that she couldn't move away, he choked out, "Nanomachines... Crusnik... 02... Power output... 80 percent... Activate."

The familiar power surged through his body, changing his cellular structure, sending the command to every level of his being, transforming him into every vampire's worst nightmare. Only by an almighty effort was he able to hang onto the vestiges of his human self, his personality, his memories...

... his morals.

Eyes blazing red opened and focused on the woman in front of him, already imagining Johanna's eyes filled with the look of revulsion, of terror, of loathing...

... but it wasn't there.

Instead, she was staring at his face, tears streaming down her cheeks as she gazed up at him, her eyes taking in everything about his altered appearance. They moved to take in his enormous black wings, shimmering in the moonlight, the lightning that crackled around his body, the pallor of his skin so that it practically glowed.

But she didn't move away, didn't even try to. Instead, she stared at him as though she would never get enough of looking at him, and Abel began to tremble. Of all the responses he'd expected from her, he'd never dared to dream that it might be this.

"My God," she whispered. Then she lifted one hand and softly, almost tentatively, brushed her fingers against one of his wings, feeling the feathers beneath her fingertips. She gently let her other hand touch his face, cupping his cheek in her palm as she closed her eyes for a moment, focusing all of her attention on her sense of touch.

When she opened her eyes again, she stared directly into his. "My God, Abel," she repeated. "You're... you're beautiful."

Abel felt as though something inside of him was shattering, the pieces of an unimaginably heavy burden suddenly crumbling away, filling him with a heady sense of freedom... and a wild, savage joy.

He pulled her tightly against him, burying his face in her hair and inhaling the scent that was so uniquely Johanna. He could feel her heart pounding against his chest, feel her body shivering as he held her.

Instinctively one of his hands moved to tangle itself in her hair, pulling her head back, and he brought his mouth down hard on hers, kissing her until they could hardly breathe. Abel groaned into her mouth, but did not let her go, kissing her again and again, each one become more insistent, more desperate, until neither one was certain how much more they could stand.

But finally Abel drew back, his eyes wide and his chest heaving. "Johanna..." He knew what he should say - as members of the clergy, to consummate their relationship would be a sin.

And yet... and yet...

"I want this, too, Abel," she said softly, standing still and waiting for Abel to make the next move.

"I'm a sinner," he whispered, all of the agony and torment he'd ever felt filling him in a sudden rush.

Slowly, serenely, Johanna smiled, and the sad beauty of it made him want to weep.

"Aren't we all?"

She moved back into his arms, tilting her head back and pulling his head down so that he could trace his lips down her throat. He groaned against the warmth of her skin, sliding his hands up her back to pull the cloak from her shoulders, then laid her down on the grass.

"Abel..."

"What?"

"Don't change back."

He froze. "What did you say?"

Her eyes silvered by the moonlight, she gazed up at him. "Stay as you are now. Don't change back yet."

"I could hurt you like this," he whispered, holding up one hand so she could see the long talons at the ends of his fingers, and baring his teeth so she could see his fangs.

But Johanna shook her head and slid her hands up his chest. "I'm not afraid of you..."

Now he did give in to his tears, allowing them to spill down his cheeks and onto her upturned face before lowering his mouth to hers and kissing her again.

It had been so long, so very, very long since he had taken a lover. The dark smell of her blood, so close and warm beneath her skin, was like a drug to his feverish need, and Abel barely remembered removing his clothes or her own. He briefly winced at the sight of the scratches he was leaving on her as he clutched at her, pulling her ever closer, but she seemed oblivious to the pain, her arms and legs tightening around him. As his body arched against hers, he felt his wings stretch and beat once, as though wanting to wrap themselves around the woman beneath him, to enfold her forever in the darkness with him.

Abel's mouth found every inch of her, drawing in with each breath the scent of her blood, her arousal, her life. Her skin was warm against his own, and her hair tangled around his fingers as he clutched at it, pulling her mouth harder against his own. He kissed her so hard that he could taste coppery blood against his lips, but whether it was hers or his, he couldn't say.

Her hands clutched at his back, her fingernails raking against his skin as she howled beneath him, legs wrapped around his waist in fervent need. Alternating between crying out to God and sobbing his name, she met him thrust for thrust, need for need, until at last Abel screamed out his release and collapsed on top of her, his wings outstretched on either side of them.

When the pounding of his heart subsided back to something approaching normal, he looked down at Johanna, who was still reeling from her own climax, still shuddering in his arms as the last waves of pleasure washed over her.

They would both be damned for this, he knew with a deep ache in his heart. But not for all the salvation in the world would he turn back the clock and change what had just happened. No... not when he had finally understood what heaven might actually be like.

He bowed his head until it was resting against her breast, and he focused on each beat of her heart, strong and steady against his cheek. Each beat was an affirmation of life... of love... of what it meant for a fallen angel to be cherished and accepted.

He would never think of himself as a sinner again... for now, for these all too brief moments, while safe and warm and loved in her arms, he was simply... a man.


End file.
